


Heart to Heart

by TaraTheMeerkat



Category: Grange Hill
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M, Why Did I Write This?, the fluffiest piece of garbage ever, why do I even want to write about this pairing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4715780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraTheMeerkat/pseuds/TaraTheMeerkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr Robson needs a little extra encouragement. Set after Ray and Mr Robson's little chat at the start of series 23 episode 12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart to Heart

Raymond Haynes hummed happily to himself as he scrubbed down a table, ready for the first customers to The Arches. Not that he usually had many customers this early in the day. Not on weekdays, anyway. His busiest times were the after school rush, hundreds of hungry schoolkids wanting a bacon sarnie and a can of coke, or stressed out schoolkids wanting a mug of coffee and some advice. He had a lot of advice to give, plenty of comforting words and survival tips: it wasn’t that long he’d been going through it all himself, after all.

Yes, he had a lot to be grateful for, when it came to Grange Hill.

He heard the click of the toilet door shutting, a quiet noise, but it rang out loud and clear in the silence of the empty café, and he looked up, smiling fondly at the man who stood before him.

“How do I look?” said the man, Peter Robson, a little sheepishly, Ray thought. He had cleaned himself up, brushed his hair, put in a nice clean suit, but he somehow looked even more nervous and crumpled that before he’d gone in.

“Gorgeous,” said Ray with a grin, putting down the cloth he’d been wiping with and walking towards the older man.

Peter gave a small, dry, chuckle. “No, I’m serious, Ray.”

“So am I!” said the younger man, earnestly. “No, look at me.” He placed his hand on Peter’s cheek, gently forcing his former teacher to face him.

Peter gazed down at Ray, whose whole face radiated warmth and affection; his eyes sparkled at him, and his mouth beamed that never faltering smile, as his thumb gently caressed Peter’s cheek. Peter couldn’t help but smile a quick, small, but genuine smile in return.

“What’ve I done, Ray?” Peter said, his voice wavering slightly. “How can I ever apologise for how _stupid_ I’ve been?”

“Now you listen here,” said Ray, voice and face almost comically stern. As though he were a headteacher himself. He rested his hands firmly on Peter’s shoulders. “You have nothing to apologise for! And even if you do, you’re going to get nowhere scraping and grovelling. Actions speak louder than words!” With this, Ray gave a grand sweep of his arm. “You’ve got to go out there with a smile! Show ‘em you mean business! And stop worrying so much! I’ve been through hell and back in my time, but you don’t catch me moping about for long. When the world thinks it’s got me down, I bounce back up with a grin.” Ray gave a final sweeping flourish with both arms for good measure.

Peter laughed, a real, genuine laugh this time. “That’s all the more reason for me to worry then, isn’t it?” he said. “If I’ve got to do all the worrying for the two of us!” But he said it with a smile, and his shoulders were a little more relaxed. “Thanks Ray.”

“I’ll come round your place tonight, shall I?”

Peter’s smile widened. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

With that, Peter turned to leave. Ray turned back to his tables, picking up his cloth once more and resuming scrubbing.

As he reached the door, Peter stopped. “Ray?” he spoke softly, turning around once more.

“Yup?” the younger man said, looking up from his table.

“I love you.”

Ray beamed, his eyes sparkling, and walked towards him once again. He draped his arms around Peter’s shoulders, who in return wrapped his own arms firmly around the smaller man, pulling him closers, one hand gently caressing the small of his back. They stayed like that for a moment, each just enjoying the feeling of closeness, the warmth of the other man’s body, and the feeling of their breath mingling as their faces were mere centimetres apart. Slowly, oh so slowly, it seemed, those few centimetres became millimetres, and finally, the gap between them closed, their faces finally meeting. Ray pressed his lips to Peter’s, gently at first, merely brushing them, then more firmly, with more confidence, the two men sinking into one another, enveloping each other, Ray’s hand snaking upwards, his fingers entwining themselves in Peter’s hair.

For a moment, it was as if the entire world didn’t matter, didn’t even exist. It was just the two of them, just two people in love, clinging to each other for support in a world that was spinning too fast.

Finally, they broke apart. Peter gazed at his lover in awe, amazed that anyone could look at him, a middle-aged alcoholic with no friends outside of his work, with such complete trust and adoration in their eyes. Especially someone as wonderful as Ray. _His_ Ray.

“I love you too, you big idiot,” said Ray, a softness around his eyes and in his voice, and a faint smile still on his lips. “Now quick!” he snapped in faux sternness. “You can’t be late while the inspectors are there! Go! Go! Your people need you!”

Peter laughed a little to himself as he finally turned and walked out into the bright morning sunshine, a newfound spring in his step and a newly recovered smile in his heart.

Ray watched him go from the window, before waltzing back into the kitchen and preparing for the day’s first customers, still unable to keep the ghost of a grin off his face.

Yes, things were going to be okay.


End file.
